Just Petrified
by ellamalfoy8
Summary: 'The rumor swept down the Slytherin stands behind cupped hands and silver and green scarves. It was Granger this time, and some Ravenclaw who was older, a prefect.' Draco POV.


**A/N: Oh hey there… Yeah, it's me, ellamalfoy8, back briefly to post this little oneshot. I'm taking a Psych class at my college in which we study the Harry Potter books and films, and our first assignment was to rewrite a scene or event from the second book from the perspective of a different character. I chose to rewrite the aborted Hufflepuff/Gryffindor quidditch match from chapter fourteen of Chamber of Secrets from Draco's point of view. **

**As a note to loyal readers of my old fics, I owe you guys an apology. I abandoned my fics, just as I said I never would, and shame on me for that. I regret leaving 'Where White Meets Black' and 'Weak' unfinished, but the simple and sad truth is that I've grown up and out of fanfiction. I started writing fanfiction when I was twelve years old, and now I'm eighteen and a freshman in college. Chances are that those fics will never be finished, and for that I am truly sorry.**

**That being said, this class may inspire me to pick up where I left off. For now, there may be a few oneshots posted. And anyone curious to read my original fiction should bounce over to my DeviantArt account (my name is ellamsrlb).**

_Chapter Fourteen: Cornelius Fudge_

_or_

_Just Petrified_

The rumor swept down the Slytherin stands behind cupped hands and silver and green scarves. It was Granger this time, and some Ravenclaw who was older, a prefect. No one was sure if they were dead or just petrified, but it was doubtful someone would get lucky and escape death for the third time in a row. Draco peered across the quidditch field at the professors' stand, where staff members were swarming like doxies in a glass jar. He could see Professor Snape's face take on a new level of sallow as Professor Flitwick informed him of the attack. McGonagall lead Potter and Weasley off of the grass and toward the castle, and by their befuddled and irritated faces, Draco gathered that they hadn't yet been told that their best friend was lying dead in the hospital wing. It seemed almost perverse that he had found out before they did, thanks to a sixth year who had witnessed Granger and the Ravenclaw being carried up the stairs.

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered, and Pansy leaned over to drape a red-nailed hand across Draco's shoulder. "About time the Heir of Slytherin went after Granger," she simpered, flashing sharky white teeth. "What do you say, party in the common room to celebrate? I doubt Snape will care, he hates the mudblood almost as much as we do." People began to get up and leave, trading the story back and forth and debating the likelihood of Granger's death, and Pansy stood up, still waiting for a response.

"Yes, about time," Draco mumbled without much conviction, and Pansy frowned, clearly having expected glee. He cleared his throat and added, "Stupid mudblood had it coming." She grinned, and he fought the urge to roll his eyes at her gullibility. Pansy may have been a pureblood, but she was hardly the most perceptive snake in the grass. "You guys go ahead, I think I dropped something."

Pansy curled a lock of her dark hair around her index finger, tilting her head to the side in a motion that reminded Draco forcefully of a pug. "You sure? We can wait for you."

"I'm perfectly safe walking about by myself, Pansy. What, do you think I'm in danger of winding up in a cot in the hospital wing next to Granger? I have the purest blood in all of Hogwarts!"

She shrank backwards from his vitriol, her tiny face crinkling in embarrassment, and he felt a twinge of remorse. "No, of course not, I was-"

"Just go," he sighed, running a hand back through his slick hair, a bad habit father had been scolding him for. Do not show anxiety, Draco, it makes you look weak. "I know you didn't, just go." Pansy skittered down the aisle without a second glance, and Crabbe and Goyle lumbered after her. The stand had emptied out during their conversation, and Draco closed his eyes and took a few even, slow breaths, wondering what had gotten into him.

He hadn't known Colin Creevey, other than being aware that Creevey was a member of Potter's fan club. Justin Finch-Fletchley had been in some of his classes before, but the simple-minded Hufflepuff had never caught Draco's attention. Their attacks had been startling, sure, because stuff like that didn't happen at Hogwarts, but that had been very separate from the goings on of Slytherin house. It had almost been funny, to see how horrified everyone else got by the possibility of a great, hulking beast picking off the dirty-blooded students. At first Draco wanted to know who the Heir was, to help or at least to make an alliance. That would impress his father, show initiative. And there were the raids going on at home, mother had written him about it, and that seemed a great deal more pressing than a few stupid attacks on people Draco barely knew.

But Granger, well, he knew Granger. He couldn't stand her, obviously, over-inflated bookworm that she was. In the beginning he wanted her to get attacked, joked about it even, but he never really thought it would happen. He didn't know why he thought so; it made sense and everything. She was a mudblood, and that's what happened to mudbloods in wizarding society. They didn't belong, and eventually they would either realize they were unworthy or be thrown out by the real wizards, people like him. But he always imagined that Granger would fail at some element of magic, and she would be thrown out of school for not being a real witch, hopefully in tears, with her big badger teeth poking out of her mouth like an absurd puppet. And then he would be declared the best student in school, and he would win the House Cup for Slytherin and shake hands with Professor Snape at the top of the Great Hall in front of everyone. But Granger wouldn't _die_, she would just go live in some hovel or in the Weasley's basement like a pet. She couldn't be dead, she was just sitting a few seats away from him in Potions! If the beast had killed Granger, that meant it was actually happening.

He couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief when Snape told them that Granger wasn't dead, just petrified. He chose not to think about his reaction too deeply.


End file.
